I'm Aware

The latch has been broken since March.

I know. I sleep with it jammed

open or shut depending on the season,

whatever the weather's demanded,

and tonight it's open. Cold.

Someone came over today.

Walked straight to the window, worked it,

said what they came to say—

you should really get someone.

I nodded. They left at five.

Now I'm here at midnight

with the same stripped drive

of the screw, the same bent plate,

the mechanism doing nothing

exactly the same as it's done

since March. I know everything

I'd need to fix this.

The screwdriver. The part.

The hardware store two blocks over.

I know this by heart.

The cold air takes the same path

it's been taking since fall.

Someone told me what I already knew.

I heard them. That's all.